


The Innocent

by germanjj



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 12:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/germanjj/pseuds/germanjj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan goes back to Mr Gray's house. He doesn't really know what he wants there, but he gets what he came for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Innocent

**Author's Note:**

> let's just pretend there are a few days between Ethan leaving Dorian's house and Vanessa going all poltergeist on everyone.

The door opens at the third knock.

“Mr Chandler.” It’s Mr Gray himself and Ethan fights the urge to turn around immediately. But something brought him here. Something commanded his legs to take one step after the other and now he’s here and he won’t leave until this issue is resolved.

The issue, Ethan realizes, that he can’t quite put his finger on but that doesn’t let him sleep at night. The issue that plagues Ethan with pictures of the night they’ve been together, of kisses shared, of hands wandering over their bodies. Of things being over faster than Ethan wants to admit he wanted them to be.

Mr Gray lets him inside, that small knowing smile firing up the anger that’s already building inside Ethan. He’s leading him into his room again but there’s no music this time, no absinth.

Only Mr Gray, the portraits and Ethan himself.

“I think I know what you’re doing.” Ethan says and his voice echoes off the walls. He doesn’t look at Mr Gray, doesn’t need to to know the amused look on the other man’s face.

“And what am I doing Mr Chandler?”

Ethan studies the portraits once more, knowing he is right. “You collect people.” He turns around. Mr Gray hasn’t moved, his head tilted slightly to the side, he's studying Ethan silently. 

“Right? People, experiences, whatever you want to call it.”

Mr Gray nods slowly. “You are not wrong.”

“Who was I? The dumb American?” Ethan laughs, and the laugh is bitter and angry. 

A shadow washes over Mr Gray’s face and he frowns. “The innocent.”

Ethan laughs to himself. “I’m hardly innocent, Mr Gray.”

Mr Gray studies him further and it’s making Ethan uneasy, making him nervous. There’s something in the way that Mr Gray looks at him that makes him feel like he’s naked and open for Mr Gray to see.

And worse, something deep inside him likes that feeling.

Mr Gray takes a few steps towards him. “But then again there’s something honest about you. Something pure. You’re ordinary.”

“Well, thank you,” Ethan bites, resisting the urge to take a step back, to bring more distance between them. Mr Gray is close enough that Ethan can smell his cologne, musk and something fresh, something that fills his nostrils and travels through his whole body. And it makes Ethan’s skin tingle with anticipation.

“… And in that you’re extraordinary,” Mr Gray finishes and closes the rest of the distance between them. He whispering now, the breath of his words touching Ethan’s skin like a soft caress. “You’re real. Like the pure, wet earth falling through your fingers after a heavy storm. Like a painting without hidden shadows. Like music played with only the basic instruments, without all the glamour and the fancy, complicated arrangements.”

“You think I don’t have hidden shadows?” Ethan’s voice is cracking at the edges but he doesn’t move, doesn’t want to give Mr Chandle the satisfaction to have intimidated him. He doesn’t think about the fact that not a single cell in his body wants to move away.

“Oh yes, Mr Chandler. All men do, don’t they? And that’s what’s so remarkable about you. Your shadows are so deeply hidden, I wonder if you know what they are.”

Images flicker through his mind, images of death and blood, of torture and pain. But they’re shallow and quickly gone.

“You do fascinate me, Mr Chandler.” Mr Gray leans back, his eyes traveling over Ethan’s body, his smile widening. “But it’s not what I want from you that brings you here. It’s what you want from me.”

He can feel the words being a mistake but they force their way out of his mouth despite himself. “What do I want from you?”

Mr Gray is fast, one hand burying itself in Ethan’s hair, pulling his head down just slightly, just enough to whisper in his ear. “Sex.” 

A groan is building inside Ethan’s throat, the word like a sweet promise and a punch to his gut.

“Dominance. Something simple and yet so powerful.”

Ethan swallows hard, doesn’t dare to move. “You’re calling me weak?”

“Not at all,” Mr Gray answers, and Ethan can feel his tongue slipping out, licking his neck, and his mouth nipping at his skin. “But you wish to not be strong even if it’s just for a moment. You wish to not think, not decide, not be responsible. You wish to be told what to do, you wish to be forced to do what brings you pleasure even when you’re scared to ask for it.”

Ethan can’t say anything. He’s mesmerized, frozen in the feeling of Mr Gray around him, touching him. The words ring true, painful and yet excitingly, and Ethan has no way of proving Mr Gray wrong.

“And you know that I’m the one who can give that to you. No questions asked, no judgment. Submit to me Mr Chandler and I’ll gladly be at your service.”

He continues to lick him, bite him, placing little kisses all over his face and neck, down to the parts he can reach easily without undressing Ethan.

“I need to hear it Mr Chandler.”

Ethan almost bites his tongue not to say anything. He feels the lust pooling in his groin, feels his hands itch to touch. But his pride is stronger. If only for a precious second.

Mr Gray continues his onslaught, undisturbed by Ethan who fights only his own desires. 

“Yes.”

The word is out of his mouth before Ethan can make the conscious decision to say it. It’s liberating and frightening at the same time but deep inside, Ethan wonders if that’s what brought him here. If that little word is what carried his legs all through the town and to Mr Gray’s doorstep.

“Again.”

Ethan can’t fight the moan escaping his mouth when Mr Gray finds his collarbone, sucking at it, most certainly leaving a mark. “Yes. Please.”

He wants to cry out when the words make Mr Gray stop and take a step back. But the smile on the other man’s face, albeit worrying, is also promising.

Ethan doesn’t know what to do now. His heart already slamming against his chest, he feels out of his debth, completely lost and at the mercy of a stranger.

“Stay like that,” Mr Gray whispers and Ethan swallows, his tongue feeling sluggish and thick inside his mouth.

Mr Gray moves closer again, but this time only to remove Ethan’s overcoat, letting it fall to the ground. He walks around Ethan, circling him like circling prey, and then he’s reaching for Ethan’s shirt, opening it slowly, button by button, and then gently slipping it off of him.

Ethan’s breath quickens as he’s standing in front of the other man whose gaze never leaves him, traveling over his face and body as if he’s hungry for the taste.

Ethan hisses when next, Mr Gray’s hands fly up to the button of his pants. 

“Don’t touch. Don’t move.”

It’s a harder task than Ethan could have imagined. He’s vibrating with desire, want pulsing through his veins. He wants to reach out, feel the warmth of Mr Gray’s skin under his fingertips, feel the softness of his skin against his tongue. 

The memory is faint and not detailed enough, their first night too quick, too hasty, fueled by anger.

But he is told not to move so he can only watch. Can only feel what is so freely given to him.

Mr Gray’s fingers are swift and efficient. They remove his pants quickly and then his underpants. He makes Ethan get out of his boots and socks until Ethan is standing naked before him.

“Beautiful,” Mr Gray whispers, circling him slowly.

Ethan’s chest is heaving with the strain of standing still. He is hard, fully erect and painfully exposed to Mr Gray’s wandering eyes.

There’s a sound escaping from his throat as Mr Gray presses against him from behind. Fully clothed against naked skin and Ethan starts sweating, fighting against his instinct to push back, to move, to touch back.

“Mhhhmmm,” Mr Gray whispers into his ear, rubbing gently against him and Ethan forms his hands to fists to keep from breaking his task. Ethan can feel the hardness of Mr Gray against his bare ass and tears are stinging in his eyes he wants it so much.

“Please,” Ethan begs, his voice hoarse and broken.

Mr Gray slowly makes his way around him, watching, touching ever so lightly, Ethan wants to scream with it. A small caress over the small of his back, a soft touch against the inside of his thigh. All the while Mr Gray is looking at him in praise, in awe, like Ethan is one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

He’s in front of him again, one hand caressing the small trail of hair going down from the belly button until he takes Ethan in hand. Ethan keens through clenched teeth.

“One day, you will come to me and I will not touch you anywhere but here.” Mr Gray is gently caressing him, keeping a slow rhythm and a too soft touch. “I will lick your cock, I will suck it, and then I’ll leave you right on the edge of fulfillment until you beg me to continue.”

He lets go and Ethan gasps out loud, trying to catch his breath.

“Today is not that day.” He continues his ever going round, a hand sliding down Ethan’s back. “Today I want more than that. Today I want what you want.”

The hand slides further down, gently following the crack between his cheeks, and then stopping.

Ethan can’t breathe. He can’t think, it’s all too much, Mr Gray’s hand behind him slowly massaging the spot shoots jolts of _pleasurepain_ through his whole body and he doesn’t think he can longer keep himself upright.

“Tell me what you want,” Mr Gray commands in a soothing tone and yet he’s demanding, getting bolder, getting rougher with his hand.

It’s humiliating and yet all Ethan wants. He knows he’s crying, can feel the tears running down his cheeks. It’s shame but it’s overwhelm too. He’s too raw, feeling too much all at once and Mr Gray is playing him like an instrument and Ethan craves it so much he never wants it to stop.

“Tell me what you want.”

“No,” is Ethan’s answer and he’s shaking his head violently. 

He wants it, wants it so much he thinks he’s gonna die without it, but he can’t say it. The words are burning inside him already, destroying him from the inside and he fears he’s not surviving it if he lets them out.

“Shhhhh.” Mr Gray soothes him, slowly wiping the tears off his face. “Tell me,” he whispers again, softly against Ethan’s lips, his voice so sweet and gentle, it only hurts Ethan more.

He presses against Ethan, in front of him now, and the movement presses their cocks together, only divided by a thin layer of fabric, and the friction makes Ethan’s eyes roll upwards with pure lust.

“Please, tell me,” Mr Gray urges him one, both hands cradling his head now, kissing him all over again, short and sweet, and he’s rubbing against him, again and again, setting a slow and agonizing rhythm and Ethan sobs with it.

“I can’t.”

“You can. My sweet wonderful man, you can.” He opens his mouth against Ethan’s, a quick touch, and Ethan is so hungry for it, so hungry for the other man’s kiss that he’s trying to chase after him. But Mr Gray is strong, keeping them apart by just an inch, just enough to drive Ethan into madness, holding in front of him what he cannot have.

Ethan takes a shaky breath, his lungs burning from the tears and air he can’t seem to get enough of it. He's looking into Mr Gray’s eyes, beautiful and haunting and widened with lust. 

“Fuck me,” he says, the words burning their way up his throat.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” he says again, chanting, can’t seem to stop now that he’s started and then he hears it, finally, a moan from Mr Gray and it’s traveling right into Ethan’s mouth, exploding inside his body as Mr Gray reaches for him, closing the last agonizing distance between them, and touching the mouths together for a long overdue, searing kiss.

Ethan is drinking it like a man denied water to live, their tongues dancing, the kiss almost aggressive, not able to touch each other deep enough as they both want it.

Ethan tears himself away when light starts dancing before his eyes from the lack of air, and he’s looking down at Mr Gray, his swollen, bitten lips matching Ethan’s own.

“Fuck me,” he says again, his voice almost gone.

Mr Gray smiles, genuinely, diabolically, honestly. “Yes.”


End file.
